


The Five Times Cassandra Caught Varric, And the One Time She Didn't

by theletterdee



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 100 Ways to Say I Love You Prompt, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterdee/pseuds/theletterdee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous tumblr prompt from the 100 Ways To Say I Love You list, #17 "Watch Your Step"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Temple of Sacred Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> much thanks to OrilliaOrange for betaing this and being my sounding board for the whole thing while I wrote this!

They trudged further into the valley, their young elvhen prisoner leading the way through the mountain path. He could see Chuckles trying to talk more with the girl. It wasn’t going well, judging by the tension in her shoulders as they rose closer to her pointed ears, which were turning red while her knuckles turned white around her staff. Varric was just about to try and distract Myranda when he _tripped_.

A million things ran through his mind as he felt the world tilt. First and foremost being how fucking embarrassing for a rogue to trip, and second, the potential damage to Bianca.

He jerked to a stop when something, or someone, grabbed a hold of the neck of his duster, preventing him from faceplanting into the ashes, rock, and ice of the mountainside. Confused, he looked over his shoulder to see the Seeker’s scowl firmly in place even as she steadied him. “Seeker?”

“Watch your step,” she responded curtly, striding past him to catch up to the elves.

Varric could only stare in confusion.

“What the hell?”

“Keep up, dwarf!”


	2. Journey to Skyhold

_Dwarves,_ Varric thought, _were not made for snow_. Still, he trudged through the wretched stuff as their illustrious Herald lead the Inquisition away from the ruins of Haven to a new place Chuckles knew about. _Probably heard about it from some random spirit in the Fade,_  he thought, ‘ _Hey look there’s some open real estate for your merry band of idiots!’_

 _“_ Talking to yourself again, Varric?” Cassandra’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

_Shit, had that last bit been out loud?  
_

“Yeah, side effect of being a writer,” he smirked up at Cassandra. She rolled her eyes in response. 

“How’s Sparks?” Varric nodded up at the front of the caravan, where Tiny carried Myranda in his arms.

“She is strong,” Cassandra answered, a faint, proud smile on her face, “and complaining that she’s capable of walking… I think Josephine threatened to tie her to a wagon if she tried to walk on her own, so Bull was the compromise.”

“I can definitely see Ruffles doing that. What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, how are you holding up?”

She opened her mouth to answer when something caught her eye and she pulled him over sharply. He was about to protest when he felt something go whizzing by his ear. Sera’s laughter, followed by their newest stray’s complaining, clued him in that Buttercup was trying to start a snow fight out of boredom. “Thanks.”

Cassandra gave him a rare smile and he had to remind himself to breathe, “Watch your step, dwarf.”


	3. Adamant

Varric could officially breathe easier. They were out of the Fade ( _Maker, he was glad he didn’t dream_ ), the Siege of Adamant was over with, and the Grey Wardens recruited into the Inquisition. He wondered were their Inquisitor had run off to. Probably somewhere for some peace and quiet, it had been a long day. Figuring he should check on the kid, Varric asked around the camp and was pointed in the direction of a tent near the outskirts. Walking towards it, he caught a glimpse of Curly and Ferelden’s Warden Commander Minerva Cousland having a personal moment by the fire ( _those two were the worst kept secret in the Inquisition, Varric was surprised they hadn’t gone public yet_ ) with the Hero of Ferelden ( _Minerva’s older brother, Mathys Cousland_ ) and Nightingale watching the two knowingly while they caught up.

Coming up to the tent where Myranda was supposed to be, he scratched on the canvas and waited for the bid to enter before he lifted one of the panels of the door. He stopped short at the sight of Cassandra sitting next to a sleeping Myranda, watching over her while she slept. Varric nearly tripped over Myranda’s staff laying haphazardly in the tent and he cursed under his breath.

“Watch your step, dwarf,” came the now familiar phrase, though it now held little malice. She sounded amused, even, but exhaustion permeated her voice and the air around her.

“Sparks doing alright?” Varric asked as he settled down next to Cassandra, close but not too close, not after their stand off regarding Hawke in the weeks before the march on Adamant or recruiting Hawke and Loghain.

“She’s tired, we all are, I think,” Her accent was thicker, her voice softer than he’d heard before. “Ever since the letter about her mother, Myranda’s been working non-stop.”

“Little shit,” he grumbled even as he shook his head fondly, “she’s been pestering all of us to make sure we take care of each other and yet does this. Seeker, our kid is stubborn as hell.”

Cassandra let out a snort, whether it was in agreement or amusement, he couldn’t quite tell. Silence settled in between them, slightly awkward, but it just felt good to be around Cassandra and neither of them threatening to kill the other. Varric knew he should apologize. He needed to, for keeping Hawke hidden for so long. At the time Cassandra had been his enemy, his rival, someone wanting to come and punish Hawke for the actions she’d taken to keep people alive and save Kirkwall. Now, though… now Cassandra was more than that. He _knew_ her, he had learned her quirks ( _how she frowned in concentration when she wrote, trying to find the words she wanted to say, how she liked to pick flowers when she thought no one was looking, how her face softened when Myranda asked for help braiding her long red hair at camp_ ). Cassandra was no longer his rival, no longer someone he bugged just to get a rise out of her, she was… well shit.

Who _was_  Cassandra to him? 

While he was mulling that over, Cassandra shifted next to him until she could rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Varric,” she sighed softly, voice barely above a whisper as Myranda shifted in sleep. One of Cassandra’s hands reached out to calm the girl and Varric remembered how to breathe. “For treating you as I did in Kirkwall and later in Skyhold when… when I found out about Hawke. You did not deserve it.”

“I’m sorry too, Cassandra,” he covered her free hand with his and squeezed, “I’m sorry for keeping Hawke from you, for lying about it. I was just worried.”

He could feel her laughter shake his body even if she didn’t let it surface, “You are always worried about your friends, Varric, you are worse than a hen at times.”

“What, clucking after my children?” he grinned as the giggles escaped. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“I am.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?” Varric squeezed her hand again and silence fell once more. 

“Are we…” he started after a few minutes, “are we alright, Seeker?”

“Yes,” Cassandra hummed and Varric swore a weight lifted in his chest at her answer, “I believe we are.”


	4. Halamshiral

Varric grabbed a flute of champagne after wrapping up another conversation with another apparent fan of his work. He really needed to talk to his publisher about why his novels “didn’t sell well” in Orlais. Downing half the glass in a single gulp, Varric grimaced slightly at the feel of the bubbles sliding down his throat. He didn’t particularly care for the drink, but it was the only alcohol on hand. Varric almost wished for wine… almost.

Spying the Seeker leaving the Grand Ballroom and heading towards one of the balconies, Varric swiped another flute and followed her.

“It’s a nice night for an evening, isn’t it, Seeker?” he said, and offered the champagne with a smile.

She whirled around, confused until she saw him. A fond smile crossed her face.

“That makes absolutely no sense, Varric.”

“That’s what we told Aveline when she said it to Donnic,” Varric wiggled the champagne in his hands, bringing her attention to it.

She took it willingly and sipped it. 

“ _She_  said that to him? When?”

“When she was courting him,” he grinned as Cassandra nearly spat out her drink. “What, too unconventional for you?”

Cassandra managed to swallow the rest of her champagne, before coughing.

“Shut up, dwarf.” 

Varric chuckled and leaned against the railing next to her. They stood together for a moment, enjoying the faint strains of music from the glittering ballroom, and the coolness of the night air.

“I hate politics,” Cassandra sighed.

“Me too,” he agreed and downed the rest of his champagne, “I’d better go before Ruffles comes looking for me.”

“Watch your step, then, Varric,” she told him softly, a smirk firmly in place when he looked back at her.

“What, Seeker, don’t think I can’t run circles around these clowns?” Varric laughed. 

Cassandra snorted.

“I’m taking that as approval and support for yours truly,” Varric said with another short laugh.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and walked over to him. Swiftly, before he could react, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Have fun, dwarf.”

His hand on her forearm stopped her before she straightened and he pulled her down for a swift kiss. 

“Knock ‘em dead, Seeker.” 

Varric fought the urge to turn back and steal one more kiss. Especially knowing that Cassandra was there behind him, blushing radiantly on the balcony.


	5. The Temple of Mythal

Cassandra was uneasy beside him. Varric could feel it radiating off of her in waves. She didn’t trust this Morrigan and as Myranda listened to the strange witch, Varric was inclined to agree. He knew Sparks had a good head on her shoulders, but being in the Temple of Mythal after watching Corypheus come back to life was unsettling. He could feel someone watching him, but could never find them when he looked. Varric shook out his shoulders, trying to will away the jitters as their group followed the petitioner’s path.

Puzzles, _of course_  it was magic puzzles. The more he saw of this temple, the more he disliked it. Myranda, on the other hand, looked around at the temple like some women her age would look at a new dress, her eyes practically sparkled as she soaked it all in. She breezed through most of the puzzles, barely needing their help at all. One particular puzzle, involved glowing tiles, and Myranda vanished from view entirely. Varric tried to follow along the puzzle’s edge, hoping to spot her. Looking for Myranda meant he wasn’t looking where he was going, though. A brick, fallen from the vaulted ceiling, caught his foot and he stumbled onto the tiled floor. A discordant chord rang out as all the tiles went dark.

_Shit._

Myranda’s head popped up over a barrier and the second she saw him on the square, she glared. 

“Creators, Varric! I was _almost done with it_! Now I’m going to have to start over!”

“Sorry, Sparks, it was an accident.”

Varric wilted under the ire of Myranda’s gaze. Dorian laughed so hard he had to lean on Cassandra to keep himself standing. Varric shot a look at Cassandra, and wondered if she would tell him what she usually did whenever he tripped (or was likely to). Instead, she grinned and shook her head fondly. He couldn’t help but return her smile.

“Don’t do it again!” Myranda stepped in between him and his lover, hands on her hips (much like Cassandra) as she stared down at him.

“I swear, I’ll just stand over next to your mother for the remainder of the puzzles, Sparks,” Varric said.

Myranda favored him with a disgusted noise (another thing she’d picked up from Cassandra), and turned back to her puzzles.

* * *

 

Andraste’s _ass_ , he really didn’t like the Temple of Mythal. The Sentinel Elves creeped him out more than Chuckles (though Merrill would have loved this place). First, Morrigan flew off and left them to sneak through the temple while Red Templars battled with the elves, then they’d faced Samson (easy enough with Dagna’s specially crafted rune), and _after all that_ , he watch as his pseudo daughter entered a pool of _stuff_  to gain access to knowledge far older than any of them here save for Abelas, after fighting over who would be the vessel with Morrigan.

Part of him was glad Morrigan hadn’t won the battle over the Well of Sorrows. He still didn’t exactly trust her. The part of him that worried over Myranda wanted her to be as far away from this weird shit as possible. A weight pressed down on his shoulder and he drew comfort from the warmth of Cassandra’s hand. She squeezed his shoulder, and he knew she was just as worried as he was. Varric reached up and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together while Myranda slowly entered the Well and waded to the center. The second she brought a handful of the Well to her lips, Myranda cried out and a force blew them all back.

Myranda was out cold in the middle of the emptied pool when they all got up. Cassandra was by her side almost immediately.

“Myranda, _Myranda!”_ Cassandra called out.

The Inquisitor gasped and lurched up, a hand to her head. She pushed away Cassandra’s helping hands.

“How do you feel?” Cassandra asked with a worried frown.

Myranda shook her head as she stood, blinking rapidly.

“Ugh,” she grunted

Varric was about to question her himself but he saw Myranda go pale. Following her line of sight, he saw Corypheus enter the Inner Sanctum and roar in rage at the loss of the Well of Sorrows. 

“Well, shit.”

“The Eluvian!” Morrigan shouted.

“Through the mirror, hurry!” Myranda ordered them all. Varric didn’t need to be told twice and he hurried towards the now glowing mirror, Cassandra right behind him. It seemed luck was not on his side today as he tripped right before entering the mirror and clipped the side of his forehead on the eluvian’s frame. Pain blossomed through his head alongside the skin prickling sensation of traveling through the mirror heading Maker knows where.

“Oof!” he landed on the dusty stone floor of a storage room. It felt familiar, it _smelled_  familiar and Varric realized this was a room in Skyhold. “Andraste’s sacred knickers.”

“I share that sentiment,” Dorian groaned from his tangled position on the carpet a few feet ahead of him.

“Varric?” Hands grabbed him and pulled him upright. He winced as the owner of the hands probed where he’d hit the mirror, pain lancing through his head again. “Why do you never do as I tell you?”

He opened his eyes to see the worried look on Cassandra’s face, “And what might that be, Seeker?”

She rolled her eyes, but with fondness, “Watch your step, dwarf.” ( _I was worried for you, take care of yourself, Varric_ )

“Sorry, it was an accident.” ( _I’ll try, Cassandra, I’ll try_ )


	6. The One Time She Didn't

She could hear Varric’s shouted taunts and cries of victory over the cacophony of the battle. Sweat rolled down her face, down the back of her neck and under her armor. This was it, the final battle, the battle for all of Thedas. They had finally done it, finally gotten to this point. The dragon Myranda had summoned at the Altar of Mythal battled Corypheus’ Red Lyrium Dragon. Meanwhile, the Inner Circle bided their time until its demise by distracting the fallen magister. Cassandra slashed at Corypheus’ legs and dodged his incoming attack. She heard Varric’s bolts thunk into the magister’s body, whistling through the air on approach, accompanied by Myranda and Dorian’s spells. 

The Red Lyrium Dragon screeched one last time, and fell from the sky as they all watched. Adrenaline flooded Cassandra’s veins as she turned to finally end Corypheus once and for all. Myranda leapt to her side, hilt of her spirit blade ready as the two of them upped the strikes against Corypheus. At last, he faltered and Myranda grabbed the Orb while their battlefield trembled in the sky.

“I’ve got this, Cassandra, make sure the other two are okay!” Myranda shouted above the noise of the falling debris. 

Cassandra nodded once and sheathed her sword. She ran back to where she knew Dorian and Varric were, searching for the familiar glint of the dwarf’s copper-blonde hair. She nearly lost her footing a few times, dodging the falling masonry of what was left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. ‘ _How fitting that this end where it all began,’_ she thought.

“Cassandra, watch out!” 

Dorian’s warning came too late. Cassandra could only watch, frozen in horror at the sight of a pillar about to crash down onto the very spot she stood. A force hit her from the side, knocking her from the pillar’s path. Cassandra caught a flash of red and blonde hair before she hit her head on a piece of debris and it all went black.

When she came to, Cassandra didn’t quite know what had happened. She remembered the debris falling and then being shoved or pulled out of the way… a flash of red… _Varric!_

“Varric!” she cried out, struggling to stand as she frantically searched the battlefield, dust lingering in the air. She spotted him, not far away, his body sprawled across the remnants of the pillar and feared the worst. “ _Varric!”_

Varric’s familiar blonde hair shone in the afternoon sunlight, contrasting with the dark stone all around him. Cassandra rushed to his side, her heart in her throat. Right before she reached him ( _his eyes were closed, is he breathing? can’t tell, must reach him, must, can’t be dead, he can’t be)_ she tripped over a rock. Cassandra braced for the fall, eyes closing out of habit.

Warm, strong hands gripped her waist and she opened her eyes to see Varric smiling softly. One of his eyes was black, and the cut on his forehead from the Eluvian had reopened. Blood trailed down the side of his face.

_He was alive._

“Watch your step, Seeker,” Varric grinned.

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes even as the tears gathered ( _he’s okay, he’s alive, Varric is alive_ ) “Idiot.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” Cassandra smiled while the tears escaped. She reached down and smoothed strands of hair away from his face, “I thought I’d lost you.”

Varric shook his head slowly, “Not for awhile, Cassandra, I plan on sticking around for a good long while.”

“Good,” She leaned down and kissed him, pouring all of her worry, love, and relief into it. He returned it gladly, grinning against her lips as she relaxed against him.

She faintly heard a mocking noise of disgust from behind them, likely Dorian, followed by a “You guys are like my parents, gross!” from Myranda. Cassandra could feel Varric laughing into the next kiss as he extended some rude gesture over her shoulder at the pair and she couldn’t help but laugh herself.

It was over.

Corypheus was gone, Myranda had survived, and Varric was alive. A new world opened up before them. They would have to help rebuild the wreckage in the aftermath, but for right now, Cassandra Pentaghast was just happy to continue kissing Varric Tethras for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I'm evil :D


End file.
